Potions and Prejudice: Snape Stories
by Cantharide
Summary: Collection of drabbles and oneshots about our favorite Potions Master. Mostly canon-compliant, sometimes very slightly; pairings and genres will vary.
1. Bread and Butter Work

**Hello dear readers! Here you'll find a serie of miscellaneous oneshots and drabbles about Severus Snape's life (and afterlife, maybe) that don't revolve around a fixed plot and might be slightly AU, although most of my work is quite canon-compliant. I hope you'll enjoy them! Reviews are, as you might guess, highly appreciated!**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything HP, as you might have guessed; everything belongs to JKR. ;)

* * *

**1\. Bread and Butter Work**

It took only a few months after leaving Hogwarts for Severus Snape to notice one crucially important thing: Death-Eater wasn't a well-paid job.

Of course, he should've known better: Dark Lords usually don't bother sending their followers their wages at the end of each month, and, besides, almost all of those said followers were wealthy enough not to care about a few extra sickles.

But right now, summer was gone; rain poured from the gloomy sky as the first cold breezes of autumn blew; and as winter approached, Severus realised bitterly how much of a foold he'd been as he counted down every last knuck left in his pockets, growing increasingly worried.

He had to find a job, something, some way to make ends meet, and bearing the Dark Mark wasn't exactly helping.

When he came back home from Hogwarts after graduating, his father told him blankly that he just couldn't take life for granted anymore, that he had to provide for his family, given that his own job at the factory wasn't enough, and his mother always did the best she could to help. Now that he was of age, Severus had to provide at least for himself, although he was always welcome at Spinner's End. A roof and a bed, everything his parents were still able to offer him every night. And he had come to bitterly accept that it couldn't be otherwise.

He had to find something, and quick. A way to earn money. And his... obligations towards the Dark Lord did not make it easy: working at the ministry or at St-Mungo's was excluded, as well as most desk jobs, since he still had to take part in all the Death-Eater activities. He didn't even dare to think about an apprenticeship, he just couldn't afford it.

Then, something caught his eye: an ad published in the _Daily Prophet_. "Hiring potionneer, cosmetic industry."

* * *

Severus never ran so fast in his life. Towards Diagon Alley, towards the little cosmetic potions shop where, with Merlin's help, he might find a way to earn a living. When he reached it, a young witch he was quite positive he met at Hogwarts guided him to the manager's office, where a middle-aged woman gestured him to come in.

He never felt so awkward in his life. But he needed the job. With only a few galleons left from his mother's sparings, he couldn't afford to loose it.

The woman interviewed him quietly, without seeming to care about his background. She asked him about his marks in Potions (OWLs and NEWTs), sent an owl to Slughorn to ask for a recommendation, then told Mr Snape she'd call him in a few days.

That evening, Severus went home happier than he ever did.

* * *

One week later, he received a letter sent by owl: his appliance had been accepted, he was expected to start three days later, on a monday. The factory wasn't on Diagon Alley, but near from Godric's Hollow. Seeing such a _Gryffindor_ adress slightly tainted Severus' bliss.

Still, on that fateful monday morning, he apparated straight there, not only on time, but in advance, trying his best to show how much he was already dedicated to his new position as a potioneer, as one of the other employees explained him how to brew the infamous _Sleekheazy's Hair Potion_. He already knew its scent, which impregnated every piece of furniture in the Slytherin Common Room. And, being his usual self, he did his best to brew it perfectly, to everyone's pleasure.

A few months later, Severus Snape was still brewing there, doing his best, earning a decent living as a potionneer, despite the obvious mismatch between his own hair and the product he was contributing to sell. Financial independence allowed him to rent a little room somewhere nearby, away from his parents – he even managed to send his mother a few galleons at the end of every month. Then...

Then, the _Sleekheazy's Hair Potion_'s inventor himself, who was still owning the factory, came to inspect it, as he did twice a year.

He was an ederly wizard, a tad small, grey messy hair, thick glasses; he walked with a cane. Severus suddenly felt uneasy, he didn't know why. The old man looked satisfied with everyone's work. His own cauldron seemed to catch his attention, however, and, after a few compliments over his _quite perfect_ concoction, _really, Euphemia, I might be the only one to ever master it like that_, the elderly man introduced himself to Severus.

"Fleamont Potter."

As they shook hands, Severus never wanted to cry more; he felt on the verge of screaming in horror.

That one guy who gave him a job, who might have been the only one in all of that damned wizarding world to provide him a living...

... Was James Potter's father.

Who invented that cursed hair potion every aristocratic Slytherin was doused in.

The mere though the Potters managed to save his life once more made him sick to his stomach.

And as he was on the verge of vomiting out of hatred, he heard Potter the Elder tell the middle-aged witch from before: "Give that Snape guy a raise, for his excellent work."

_Oh dear Morgana how he hated them all_.


	2. Wrong Doe-ing

**2\. Wrong Doe-ing.**

**Starring**: Sirius Black

**Genre**: Humour

**Set**: OotP, right before the Battle at the Department of Mysteries...

* * *

Sirius Black blinked furiously. Then pinched his arm so hard it almost bled.

Yet he couldn't wake up. Which led him to believe all of this was real.

_Merlin's godforsaken beard caught in a wheeling helicopter._

It _just overwhelmingly slightly_ couldn't be real, for she was dead. And she died thirteen years before, and he was positive she was dead since Harry was alive and well, for now at least.

_Lily Evans Potter_.

Thus, it couldn't be real. But he wasn't sleeping either, that, he knew: his forearm was hurting.

For what seemed like an eternity, he stared at the little dainty silver doe galopping towards him as he was enjoying a glass of fine wine by the chimney in the living room of 12, Grimmauld Place.

He glanced at the bottle on the table. Sure, it was quite dusty - not like Kreacher ever bothered to take care of the wine cellar, that grumpy elf - but the beverage still tasted perfectly good, as far as he knew; maybe his senses were dulled by such a long period in Azkaban. Still...

The silver doe was looking at him. A Patronus he knew too well, a Patronus he thought he'd never see again.

"Lily?!" he incredulously muttered.

When the little creature looked at him, he noticed a little flicker of darkness in its eyes. Sirius grabbed his wand, just in case.

Then, it opened its mouth, and a well-known voice spoke...

"Are you at Grimmauld Place, Black? Potter, your idiot of a nephew, had a vision in which - to my greatest pleasure, may I add - you were tortured by the Dark Lord at the Department of Mysteries..."

...

Wait...

Wait a freaking minute...

_Merlin's grey and worn underwear be dammned!_

Snape?!

...

_The_ Severus Snape? _Had a doe for a Patronus_, by all of Morgana's wrongdoings?!

...

Was that a joke?

...

...

And was Snape... asking him... if he was safe and well at home?

...

Sirius Black blinked furiously. Then pinched his arm so hard it almost bled.

Yet he couldn't wake up. Which led him to believe all of this was real.

_Snape had a godforsaken doe, almost identical to Lily's, who's been dead for more than a decade, and he just asked me if I were safe, because Harry told him he saw me tortured by You-Know-Who?_

Even in his wildest dreams, he never imagined such a prank, and therefore felt Snape rise in his esteem.

Because it was a prank, right? A stupid prank, like they did to each other in the good old days...

He gasped.

_Harry_.

He nooded to the silver doe, and sent his own black, shaggy dog, to Severus Snape, with the following message: "Yes, I'm at Grimmauld Place, alive and well, no Dark Lord in sight for now. Nice Patronus, Snivellus, quite familiar, by the way!"

As he left the living room to meet the rest of the Order for an emergency meeting, Sirius Black couldn't help but think about each and every way to make fun of Snape and his Patronus. Oh yes, he had a few ideas...


End file.
